


Gus am bris an la agus an teich na sgailean*

by juliaaa91



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: showverse+bookverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliaaa91/pseuds/juliaaa91
Summary: Claire and Jamie deal with grieving and healing, at Lallybroch.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a two parter and mixes book and show unique elements… Hope you like it. In Voyager and onwards, Jamie and Claire remember us, themselves and each other of Faith, often. Something that I truly appreciate from Gabs, because I do not like loose ends [pet peeve], and Faith symbolizes not only a child, but a lot more. In Dragonfly in Amber and eventually in Faith (especially in the extended version #glorious), feelings are so much more raw… So, since we are on Claire’s POV for those, I wanted to dive into Jamie’s frame of mind for a bit, indulging on something that I think lacks in other places, but not in Outlander - a man’s raw pain and sensitivity and undying love… Still through Claire’s eyes, because I really wanted them to complete each other. 
> 
> *”Till the day breaks and the shadows flee away.” (phrase present in Brian Fraser’s tombstone, in the show, from Song of Solomon 4:6)

The peace and routines of Lallybroch filled me day after day, hour after hour. Still one day at a time, one daily task after another…

It had been three months since arriving in Scotland from Paris. Jenny was holding a newborn and Ian had two tiny Murrays behind him, as they stood in the doorway, waiting to greet us. One Wee Jamie ran like the wind and flung himself at his uncle and then at me. My heart squeezed and the tears threatened to fall. Jenny hugged me in a way only a mother hugs another, in our silent agreement. At first I was ashamed to feel a pang of jealousy at my newest niece, Kitty… Why had she lived and my Faith had not? I was glad to notice though, that I managed to control these thoughts and almost rationalize my grief. Jamie held me closer to him that first day of family gatherings. He knew, he understood. Fergus hovered close as well, trying to get acquainted to his new home and because he insisted that he “would not fail” us again. Our sweet boy…

After all those weeks of deep loneliness, pain and sorrow, our reunion brought me relief. A relief that was palpable, as my load was now shared. As a mother, I carried most of it still, but that was exactly it… I was still a mother. Jamie made sure I knew that.

It was too painful to talk about her, even just the simple sound of her name, but she lingered with us in our room some nights, before we fell asleep locked around each other. We were both in bed with eyes wide open, thinking of a baby we had had to leave behind. That small fact had hurt Jamie deeply, because it was the connection he hadn’t been able to share with our daughter. Two times, on two different nights, when we were brave enough and almost in the midst of slumber, he’d asked me to tell him everything about our daughter. He had asked this with careful words and I couldn’t deny him. He, and I, would have liked to have her buried here, with family, side by side with her grandparents and uncle. But of course, at the time, Jamie’s fate (and my own, if I am to be completely honest) were really unknown. We had left a bit of Scotland with her though. That eased our hearts and made the thought more bearable. That day at the grave Mother Hildegarde had given her at the Hôpital’s cemetery had been a transition. During our trip back to Scotland, Jamie and I had barely stopped touching each other, craving the heat we had missed during those terrible weeks of pain, anger and the presence of the cold despair of the unknown.

For one, something that I admired in Jamie, and also Jenny and Ian, was their resilience. Something I could trace back to the days of collecting rents with the Mackenzies… Something I had inside me, but had needed Jamie to show me. In my 20th century life, that trait had carried me through a devastating war, but I tended to forget it in the daily routines, as is natural when things come easy. But with Jamie, and after all the ordeals we had been through, resilience was a as natural part of us as was breathing, as the nights we spent lost in the blue quilts of our bed. That resilience was part of our healing. But I knew Jamie suffered in silence… And I also knew he was a man of words.

That evening would prove to be another moment in time I’d never forget… I was rearranging some books on the shelves of the study, looking for free and clean pieces of paper, intended for notes of my medical procedures and to label my herbs. As I sat on the desk to arrange for some ink I noticed a square of paper with an elegant “F” on it, stuck beneath the recent package of books Aunt Jocasta had sent to Lallybroch from the Colonies. I could not take my eyes off of it. That “F” was not natural to Jamie’s handwriting, but it was nonetheless elegant and thus forced to convey a beauty that had been trained by the hand that drew it. I picked it up and opened it. I felt like an intruder and a worthy reader of that letter at the same time, all because I knew I would find what Jamie hadn’t yet been able to tell me; and like he had said to me, in Paris, when I allowed myself to look into his eyes, into my sun, we were the only two people in the world who knew this pain. The pain of losing Faith. My heart pounded in my chest…

_My dearest Daughter,_

_I dream of you often. I did all the while your Mam carried you, all the while I felt myself lost in a dark room, hiding from myself. At the time you were a wee lad with brown hair. I apologize deeply for that, my sweet lassie. Not that I am not equally proud of you for being a girl but please understand that I thought it would be easier if you were… If you had ever come to be._

_But of course you were, you are. Mo chridhe, please forgive me for that distance while ye grew, forgive me for what I did. I’m afraid I can’t ever forgive myself for what happened… Nay matter what your Mam said about the fact that could’ve happened anyway, and I know childbirth is not safe. Even so, I am so sorry I was not there to meet you._

_I look at your beautiful Mam and my soul fragments itself and travels to her own. The sorrow in her eyes is no so deep anymore. I know it’s because you are looking upon us and guiding her into the light._

_She told me you had hair like my own, in colouring at least. For me, that hair would have darkened a wee bit… I picture you with hair the colour of amber, curly [curling] mad around your face, blue eyes and with a smile that crinkles them. You are just like her, and I bless God for that gift. I dream of things for you… I hope you have the gift of healing, perhaps since you accompanied your Mam so many times when she was about her work. Perhaps you like horses as well? Aye, I think so. I would have taught you how to play chess. I see your wee legs running around the fields, I am chasing you and you are laughing, until we meet our angel in white. We embrace and our hairs mix together in a flash of warm light, like different shades of a tree in October._

_I am sorry, I am so sorry. I don’t want to make the word seem vulgar._

_My heart lifts everytime I see Mam smiling now, hoping that she is better, that we can get better together. Please help her, mo chuisle. Knowing that you’ll be forever with her, with me, soothes me. My wee treasure, I deeply regret not having felt you in my hands and I admit I don’t know that I would have been brave enough to do it. I was angry at God, deep in the cell I spent weeks in, not knowing what came of you and Claire. I was angry at God for not allowing me to meet you. But now I thank Him for you, my Faith… Because of you, we are whole._

_I hope you found your grandsire Brian, your grannie Ellen and uncle Willie. They will find you, I’m sure. I hope you find Uncle Lambert, I so would have liked to know him as well, and your grandparents Henry and Julia._

_I will carry your heart within me, the beat of flesh and blood of when I felt you in your Mam’s belly. I cherish every word she told me about you, wishing I had the memory of you in my hands. I thank God and the Virgin Mary for letting her hold you and feel you. I will love you forever. Guide us a leannan and please, forgive me._

_Your father,_

_James Fraser_

I pressed the piece of paper to my chest and closed my eyes, not being able to hold the tears. After some time, I went to the window and looked up into the starry night.  


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie deal with grieving and healing, at Lallybroch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read chapter 1 for notes! Thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos.  
> Hope you enjoy this second part,  
> J

I was torn… Should I talk to Jamie? Should I tell him I had invaded his private fortress, in a way? Maybe this was an exaggeration, but I couldn’t help but feel this way. I wanted him to talk to me, yet I also understood that he needed this solitude, to deal with his own grief. God knew I was still doing the same.

It’s a complicated and personal matter, this thing that is grief… At the same time you want to experience it alone, yet you also want to share everything with the ones who may understand you. That is also painful, even if it does help… The burden gets lighter, but part of me wanted to save those memories of my baby all to myself. I had carried her, I had gone through the agony, the pain, all alone…

But had I really? I had been lost in sadness, and that was owed to me. But I had missed my husband’s pain. Now, I had a clearer view of what he had grieved inside the dark walls of the Bastille. So, after leaving the letter back in its place, I went upstairs to our bedroom, our blue- walled refuge with the large and soft blue quilt. While I was still trying to process everything that had come up upon reading Jamie’s words, I hoped fervently that our bubble would stay that way tonight. For grief is also a volatile business. Fortunately, Jamie and I are not.

I took off my clothes and changed into to my sleeping shift and a grey shawl. Even after washing my face, the obvious puffiness of my eyes would not fool him. Shaking with anticipation, I sat down and combed my fingers through my hair. I was nervous and afraid. Of what, I was not sure. So I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, he is the one who knows me, who understands me, he is the one who completes me. It was an after schock of those lonely times in the hospital bed...  

Jamie would be up soon after joining Murtagh for a dram and checking in on Fergus and Rabbie. He had been checking in on Fergus every night, assuring him he was safe at Lallybroch, that Scotland was his home and that the devil would not come for him.

I heard steps outside the door and he entered the room. With no success, I tried to hide my face, but obviously he saw right through me.

“Sassenach, are you unwell? What is it?”, Jamie asked anxiously. I knew what was going through his mind, and how much he wanted to try to help me, even though his words failed.

He took my hand and we sat at the foot of the bed. He took the hand he was holding in both of his and whispered in Gaelic. I caught _mo nighean donn_ in there… My eyes were getting watery again, I simply couldn’t stop.

“Jamie, I found it, I am sorry.” He instantly knew what I was talking about. He was not mad, he simply dropped his head… “Aye, I thought that was a possibility… To be honest, I didn’t know if I wanted ye to read it or not.” Sighing deeply he continued, in a low husky whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that Jamie, stop it, please. We can’t torture ourselves any longer.” My chin was quivering and my voice was shaking and failing me. I wanted to cry and at the same time shake him out of his guilt.

“I *AM* sorry Claire”, he was sobbing too now, “I am sorry, I want her here. I feel like I abandoned her, you, yet again.” He tried to exhaust himself everyday to erase some of these poisonous thoughts away, simply because having broken his promise to me had broken him as well. Even if had to be done… I sensed his despair, it came in waves of darkness that were stronger some days. On other days the sun was able to pierce through. That so called resilience…

“No Jamie, don’t say that.” I put my arms around him, my tears were slipping on his back through the loose shirt. I felt the same way he did, but we had to keep pushing and pushing. “She’s here”, I added, letting him go just a bit, so I could touch his face. He put his hand over my heart.

“Aye Sassenach, she is. I ken she is.” He hugged me then and we stayed like that for a bit trying to mend each other. “Always… ” For that was what I felt. Not in a selfish manner, for we would have our own Faith with us, no matter what would happen in the future. “I love what you wrote.” He grabbed my hands and kissed them with fervor, palms and fingers, worshipping almost. This was the connection he had to her.

We had left a part of Scotland with her, but we could bring her spirit here… Home. “Wait a minute, will you?” I asked, kissing him, before leaving the room. I walked down the stairs, went into the study. I took Jamie’s letter again and sat down, grabbed the quill and started writing on a fresh piece of paper: 

_Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside_

_I do like to be beside the sea!_

_I do like to stroll along the Prom, Prom, Prom!_

_Where the brass bands play:_

_“Tiddely-om-pom-pom!”_

_So just let me be beside the seaside_

_I’ll be beside myself with glee_

_And there’s lots of girls beside,_

_I should like to be beside_

_Beside the seaside!_

_Beside the sea_

When I came back up, Jamie was by the window, back strained with tension, looking down. I hugged him from behind, holding our two tributes. “We could do one thing, Jamie. We can ask your parents to look after her, we can keep a little bit of her with them.” He grabbed my hands for a few seconds and turned around. Placing his forehead to mine he whispered, “Thank you, _mo nighean donn_.”

\--

Mid-morning the next day we took our leave from the big house. Jenny clearly noticed our fleeting moods and swollen eyes, while going about our morning tasks. But for once, Janet Murray kept it to herself, distributing tasks to the boys. We walked in silent companionship until we reached the Lallybroch cemetery.There they were. Ellen, Brian, Willie… Jamie had brought a shovel, I had brought a bouquet of flowers, including thistles, tied with a white bow. And of course, our respective letters. Jamie dug a small hole next to his father’s grave.

“ _Gus am bris an la agus an teich na sgailean_ ”, he said, reading the words Brian Fraser’s stone had engraved on it. I looked at him, “Till the day breaks and the shadows flee away.”

“And they will Claire.” he declared, blue eyes on fire.

“They are flying away now Jamie, they are.”

“And our day is breaking.” With that we placed our pieces of paper inside a box we brought from our room and set it in the hole. Jamie covered it again and I placed the flowers on top of the small indentation of dirt and stones. We held hands.

Faith Fraser was home.

\--

Later that night we were in bed already when Jamie turned to me. “I would tell you about it all Sassenach, but I thought it unfair. Not only your soul, but your body suffered through that alone. My job is to help you, to care for you…”

 “And you think that my job is not to care for you either? It hurt, I told you it did, it still does. I was angry. But you are healing me, let me heal you too.” My eyes were begging him, simply because I couldn’t bear to feel that despair alone again, nor would I let Jamie feel it either. We were not that. We are soulmates. “Trust in that, Jamie.”

“Aye, my Sassenach” he smiled, “I poured my heart into that piece of paper, into my daughter’s soul. It felt like I was speaking to her, imagining her like you described her to me. I felt less broken.” He tucked a curl behind my ear. “ _Mo chridhe,_ ye are my world.”

“Kiss me, Jamie.” And he did.

 I was buried in his chest, in bed, in a fuzzy almost asleep state… He was praying. I wasn’t even quite sure if he was doing so awake as he whispered: “Take care of my treasure, and by your grace, God, let me be enough. In Your wisdom, grant us another.”

 

***”Till the day breaks and the shadows flee away.” (phrase present in Brian Fraser’s tombstone, in the show, from Song of Solomon 4:6)**


End file.
